Thunder Rolled Across the Sky
Thunder rolled across the sky
Like some great beast about to die,
Or the ancient god, now bestirred
By ancient thoughts and present words.
Fall arrived in her attire
Of earth, water, wind and fire.
But mostly fire, which spoke
Of life and death and heat and smoke.
As we walked through fallen leaves
And passed by wind-tossed trees
You talked of God and of Joan of Arc
And darkness settled on the park.
Of Joan of Arc and her fire,
Set upon her funeral pyre,
Dying from the fire’s embrace
In another time and another space,
Was turned to and became ashes,
While lightening flashes
As from nightmares or from dreams
Illuminated disparate scenes.
“I do not believe,” you said,
“That the past is ever dead.”
Going on our separate paths
We fled the storm and its wrath.
Copyright © Jerome Malenfant | Year Posted 2016
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